


A Dragontale

by AParticularlyLargeBear



Category: Parahumans Series - Wildbow
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-31
Updated: 2018-10-31
Packaged: 2019-08-11 16:43:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,095
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16479173
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AParticularlyLargeBear/pseuds/AParticularlyLargeBear
Summary: Tattletale gets a visitor to her cave.





	A Dragontale

Tattletale's slumber was interrupted by the pounding of metal against rock. Paring open one slitted green eye, she stifled a yawn. Her sense of time, assisted by magical intuition, was informing her that she'd been asleep for forty-three days, more than enough to digest the deer she'd eaten before her nap. However, that didn't mean she wouldn't have preferred to sleep for longer, and Tattletale gave voice to her irritation with a deep rumbling growl, echoing around the cave, the noise distorting and stretching as it rebounded off the irregular surfaces within the cavern.  
  
The clanking footsteps paused. Tattletale stayed put on her perch on a flat shelf of rock in the eaves of the cave, curled in on herself with her head resting on her flank. Usually making some noise was enough to dissuade any would-be treasure hunters from exploring too deeply, courage faltering in the face of the unknown. For those bold enough to venture further, well, there was a reason the cave floor had a light scattering of armour pieces, discarded weapons, and bones. Adventurers had a very strange lack of regard for their own mortality, and were all-too willing to respond to goading with violence. Still, Tattletale couldn't deny she appreciated the aesthetic; a lair just wasn't complete without a few skulls around the place.  
  
Just as Tattletale was thinking about settling herself back down to nap some more, the footfalls resumed. She suppressed a hiss of frustration and unfurled herself, tail delicately flicking out along her ledge. It extended a little further out than last time, she noted with a small thrill of pride. Of course, she knew intellectually that she was still growing, but there was a certain something to hard evidence, whether confirmed with her eyes or her magic.  
  
Anyway, enough admiring her tail and gorgeous scales and wingspan, she had a visitor. Excitement was beginning to permeate her annoyance, right on cue. Tattletale knew that her nature well enough to know that wasn't contradictory. She disliked her cave being intruded upon because confrontation inevitably ensued and she wasn't all that invested in epic battles of heroism. On the other hand, months and years at a time spent without any kind of company became very dull indeed. Bats, lizards and fungi made for poor conversation partners. Tattletale launched herself from her perch, plummeting half the distance before spreading her wings wide and catching herself, pulling into an elegant dive that allowed her to swoop down to the cave floor and touch down, skidding to a halt right in front of the narrow passageway which led up to the surface.  
  
She saw the intruder immediately, a figure clad in armour which gleamed so brightly it had to be enchanted, pauldrons decorated with roaring lion heads. An emblem of flames was engraved into the breastplate, a rich blue cloak around their shoulders extending down to the floor. Their helm had a plume in that same blue, the front open just enough that Tattletale's sharp eyes could just about make out parts of the face within. They wore a sword belt, but they made no move to unsheath the weapon, merely taking a single step back in the face of Tattletale's (if she did say so herself) impressive entrance.  
  
"Who dares enter my domain?" intoned Tattletale, as was traditional and expected. She let her tail swish out behind her, fixing the interloper with a steely glare. The scrutiny of a dragon had been known to make seasoned warriors tremble in fear, even without magic behind the gaze.  
  
The adventurer didn't seem remotely perturbed. "My name is Sir Corey of Refuge. Pleased to meet you." The voice was warm and friendly, clearly belonging to a young woman. "You'd be Tattletale the Cunning?"  
  
Tattletale caught herself preening. Usually it was all 'vile beast!' and 'evil monster!' with nary a thought spared for her intellect. "That's correct, human." She straightened up to her full height, flaring her wings. "Now, state your purpose, lest I lay bare your darkest secrets!" The threat, of course, was simply for show. She was actually already pushing out her magic, roving around for the thoughts, the hidden information of this Corey.  
  
"I heard a dragon laired here," said Corey, shrugging. The motion was incongruously casual with her shining armour. "I figured that you wouldn’t get many visitors who aren’t looking to kill you.”  
  
Tattletale considered that for a moment. Not untrue. Adjuding her magic to have had long enough to suffuse the area, she turned her ears to the whispers.  
  
_Forthright, honest. Direct in her dealings. Legitimate curiosity about me; legitimate concern about me. Not worry about what I may do, compassion for my solitude._  
  
She almost laughed. A human showing consideration for a dragon? Truly a first, if a misguided one. She needed no scaleless stripling to fret for her social life.  
  
Which she didn’t have. Because she was a dragon living in a cave with nobody to talk to.  
  
Which was her choice, and nobody else’s!  
  
“Even if you weren’t glowing, I can smell the magic on you from here. You’d have me believe you mean me no harm?”  
  
Corey laughed, not unkindly. “My lady, why should I try to kill you? Because you’re a dragon?”  
  
Tattletale cocked her head to one side. Well, yes? That was the way things were done. Heroes hunted creatures like her, then she killed them and ate them, in that order if they were lucky.  
  
The knight shrugged. “Here, this was only a precaution anyway.” She touched both hands to the flame on her chest, and the armour faded away. Beneath she wore only a sleeveless tunic and sandals. Her hair was bright red and worn up in a bun.  
  
Tattletale snorted, a little puff of steam emerging from her nostrils. “You know, I should roast you just for the temerity to put the magic away in front of me.”  
  
_Trusting, genuinely sees no harm in dropping her defences. No ulterior motives; here to talk. Thinks that I’m lonely._  
  
Her mighty heart most certainly did not skip a beat. What should she care that a human was worried? It was absurd, for a dragon to concern herself with the opinions of sheep.  
  
“I don’t think you will,” said Corey simply. “Can I sit down?”  
  
Tattletale narrowed her eyes, then gestured with a claw. Corey strolled towards her and then with a grateful nod set herself down next to Tattletale’s leg.  
  
“So,” Corey’s face broke into a beaming smile, bright as any treasure. “What does a dragon do for fun around here?”


End file.
